“Father Geoffrey’s eyebrows, yes,” Liandrix finished his father’s sentence for him, and he responded with a bestial roar of laughter that drowned out the sounds of Market Row and made several onlookers shoot reproachful glares at the noise.
Dale, Liandrix’ father, was a tall, broad man with a big pair of arms and a heavy jaw; the complete opposite of both Liandrix and his mother, who were both rather skinny. One of the few things Liandrix did share with his father was the blonde hair the broad man wore in a ponytail, although Liandrix had it neatly cropped to cover just the tip of his ears.
“I would let him lecture me for a day if only I could see his face right now!” Dale roared again.
Liandrix tried not to laugh himself. “I honestly didn’t know that Geoffrey would open it. I had hoped for one of those pesky boys to do it.”
They rounded a corner and the busy street vanished behind them. The small ally was dark and opened up to a cozy square surrounded with houses. The pair crossed the quiet residential block and Dale wasted no time in thumping down one of the doors with his massive fist and strolling inside.
“Olivia! Liv, come down here! Wait until you hear what Liandrix has pulled off this time!” Dale roared, and then guffawed at the memory one last time. Liandrix put his hands in his pockets and tried to look smaller than usual.
There came a creak from above and a moment later a slender figure descended the stairs. Olivia looked very much like Liandrix, aside from her blonde hair. She was slim, had light-blue eyes and seemed to be a bit taller than average. She came down the stairs clutching a piece of parchment, but it crumpled as she crossed her arms and gave both her son and her grinning husband a suspicious look.
“What happened?” she asked.
Liandrix quickly decided to just tell his mother the entire story before his father would, in full color, tell her how funny Geoffrey’s face must look now. His mother, her eyes calm and strict, listened impassively at her son’s explanation.
“I was just attempting to create a ward, that’s all,” Liandrix finished.
Olivia’s gaze turned disapproving. “That wasn’t a ward, Liandrix. That was a trap. I told you not to try out more advanced magic before someone could teach you how it’s done. Poor Geoffrey, he has to preach tomorrow morning. No, Dale, we’re not going this time. I know you’d go just to see how his face looks.”
Dale scratched his beard as he looked away pointedly.
Olivia rounded on Liandrix again. “I thought you were trying to keep your job this time.”
“Mom, I’m trying to survive it. You have no idea how boring it is to be Father Geoffrey’s assistant. He only lets me clean the place, day after day.”
Olivia unfolded her arms, her gaze losing its strictness. One hand grabbed the arm holding the crumpled piece of parchment she still had and she looked away.
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”
Liandrix was caught off guard by his mother’s sudden solemn air.
“What? Why doesn’t it matter? What’s wrong?”
His mother looked back at him and then gave her husband a look that the broad man responded to with one of his own. It was a look they often shared if they wished to communicate without words. It was like they could read each other’s mind.
“Well …“ Dale said in his heavy voice, “we knew this day would come.”
“What day? What are you talking about?” Liandrix asked as he turned to his father. “Mom, I—“
But Olivia had already crossed the room, flattening the piece of parchment as she went, which Liandrix had taken for granted until that moment. She held it out to him with a smile on her face, though he could see some hidden pain behind that smile. Liandrix slowly took the paper in his hand but didn’t look at it.
“It’s a letter for you, Liandrix. I think you’ll recognize the seal on the front.”
Liandrix looked down at the folded letter and saw a broken violet wax seal. He folded the two pieces together and the image of an eye in golden lining formed in front of his eyes.
“It’s from Dalaran,” Olivia said unnecessarily.
Liandrix stared at the letter for a moment without actually seeing it. Dalaran. The city of the Kirin Tor which housed the most powerful mages on Azeroth. What would they want with him?
“I don’t understand …”
His mother smiled. “Read the letter, dear.”
Liandrix opened the letter, the seal crumbling under his fingers, and began to read.
Dear Liandrix of Stratholme,
I send you my greetings in name of the Kirin Tor, senate of mages, guardians of magic, researchers of spells and artifacts.
It is with great pleasure that I announce to you that you have a place among the greatest of mages of Azeroth to hone your skills in the Arcane. You are given the rare opportunity to study with the most valuable of magical inventories this world has to offer.
If, in your endeavor, you are found to exhibit a talent for any of the schools of magic, you will be eligible for an apprenticeship under the valued tutelage of a mage of the Kirin Tor.
Among the mages of the Kirin Tor, as well as in and around the city of Dalaran strict rules of the practice and experimenting of magic apply. Upon your arrival you will be notified of these and more guidelines to your future magical study. You are required to bring this letter of introduction with you in order to be allowed access to our extensive libraries and other facilities.
I welcome you to Dalaran and I hope to do so personally very soon.
In my own hand,
Meredith Dippel, Abjurer, first class. Liaison office.
After reading the letter Liandrix stared at it for some time more. A thousands thoughts filled his mind. Finally he rounded them up and looked at his mother.
“Mom, I want to study magic, I really do. But why do I need to go to Dalaran? I can keep studying under you, can’t I?” Liandrix couldn’t prevent the pleading tone in his question.
His mother smiled at him in what he thought was a condescending way. “Liandrix, you may not realize this, but you are far more talented than I. There is really only so much I can teach you. And Stratholme may be a great city, but there is little room for magic here, besides the light. You know how people think about it here.”
Liandrix pulled his hands from his pockets and started pacing one way up the room, then turned and walked in the other direction. The thought that lay most heavily on his mind was the one of leaving Stratholme. He had never been far from home before and the prospect of leaving to travel all the way to Dalaran scared him somewhat. But somewhere, in the back of his mind behind his worries, the idea of studying magic with the mages of the Kirin Tor excited him.
“I need to think about this,” Liandrix finally said.
“Of course, dear,” his mother said, and added with a small smile, “but don’t forget that if you stay, your future will likely involve being a cleric under Father Geoffrey.”
“Well … “ Liandrix said, “at least he won’t frown upon my cleaning anymore.”
Behind him his father let out a heavy chuckle, which he turned into a hackling cough after a disapproving look from his wife. Liandrix looked at the pair of them with amusement.
Why couldn’t things stay the way they were?
